


Max's Emergency

by mggislife2789



Category: Criminal Minds, Penelope Garcia - Fandom, Spencer Reid - Fandom
Genre: Cats, F/M, Gen, Sick Pet
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-04
Updated: 2017-01-04
Packaged: 2018-09-14 18:41:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,182
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9198230
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mggislife2789/pseuds/mggislife2789
Summary: Disclaimer: I don't own any of these characters or their original stories. This is only for fun. It's where my brain goes after the credits roll. No copyright intended. Better safe than sorry ;)





	

Ring. Ring.

Ring. Ring.

“Hello?” Spencer yawned, not bothering to open his eyes. It was the middle of the night and he had no idea who was calling him. All that mattered to him right now was the he and Y/N had just had an amazing night together and were curled up next to each other in bed. She started to move slightly at the sound of his voice.

“Spencer, it’s Penelope. You have to help me,” she said in a panic. She was practically hyperventilating. Spencer shot up in bed.

“What’s wrong?” he asked. “Are you okay? Are in danger?”

“I’m not in danger. Max is,” she cried. “He’s been throwing up for the past three hours and I don’t know what’s wrong with him and if anything happens to him, Spencer I’m not gonna be able to take it, and…”

“It’s okay, Garcia. Stay calm. Y/N and I will be over in a few minutes.” He roused from your sleep as he hung up the phone. Groaning, you turned over, looking at the clock and seeing that it was barely 1:30 AM.

“What’s wrong with Garcia?” you asked, stretching your arms out so far you knocked the clock on the floor.

“Max is sick and she’s freaking out,” he responded, lying back down for a moment to place a kiss on your shoulder. “Would you mind coming over with me to see if there’s any reason he should be taken to an emergency vet?”

Slowly, you pushed yourself up from the bed by one arm, stretching yet again. “Of course,” you said, standing up with your eyes still closed and putting on the pajamas you’d worn before Spencer took them off. “I’m just wearing this and a coat out though. I can’t be bothered to find a bra.”

“Fine by me,” he said, playfully coming up behind you and placing another kiss in the crook of your neck.

As you both made your way down the stairs, during which time you insisted Spencer drive so you could find some time to wake up, you asked him what Penelope had said. “Did she say anything else about Max? Was is just the vomiting? Were there any other symptoms?” You were a vet, and one of the best known in the area at that, so when Penelope found her cat sick, she probably panicked and figured she’d call the only person she knew.

“She was just panicking,” he replied. “I had to calm her down. She loves that cat.”

Within a few minutes, you were on your way upstairs to Penelope’s apartment. “Oh thank god,” she sniffled as she opened the door. He’s really sick and I don’t know what’s wrong with him.”

You gave her a tight hug, soothing her with what she needed to hear. It was very unlikely that anything super serious was wrong. “Have there been any other symptoms?” you asked, “Blood in the urine? Depression? Dehydration? Lack of appetite? Any recent weight loss? Diarrhea?”

“No, none of that,” she said, looking toward Max who was vomiting for what she said was the sixth or seventh time that night, “does that mean anything to you?”

“Well, it rules out tapeworms or FLUTDs.”

“What are those?” she asked horrified.

“Feline Lower Urinary Tract Diseases,” you replied. “When you’re out, do you crate him?”

Penelope shook her head no, immediately feeling guilty. “Just a question, Pen,” you said, scratching your head and trying to figure out what it might be. “Do you leave things in his reach that he might be able to get?”

“Well, he gets up on the kitchen counter, but there’s nothing up here that he could eat.” She was looking around the kitchen in a frenzy for something she could’ve possibly left on the counter. “There’s nothing. Everything’s too big for his mouth.”

“Okay,” you said, looking at Max as he finished vomiting, “Come here Max. Let me check out that mouth of yours.”

As you sat down on the floor, Max crawled over to you. He always liked you, but he was being extra affectionate tonight, probably do to the fact that he wasn’t feeling well. For a few minutes, you pet him from the head all the way down to his tail, getting him calm and compliant. Many cats wouldn’t allow you to check out their mouths without biting, and a cat bite could put you in the hospital for a couple of days, but Max was an especially good cat. “Let me check in there.”

Gently, you opened up his mouth, looking for something he could’ve chewed on or swallowed that was upsetting him. It was normally the most common solution for a cat not feeling well. “I see something,” you said, turning around to Penelope, “Can you hand me my bag?”

With a look of relief on her face, she turned towards the door to get the bag you’d dropped with some of your basic supplies. You reached in to grab a pair of pincers to grasp what you were looking at. Reaching into Max’s mouth, you consoled him. “It’s okay, baby. You’re gonna feel better after this. I promise.”

Finally, after a few careful movements you clasped onto what you were looking at and pulled slowly. “What’s that?” Spencer asked.

“A piece of floss,” you said, placing it carefully on the floor and turning toward Max again. “You feel better?” you asked, massaging him under the chin. Max responded with the famous cat stretch, where he arched his back; then he hopped up on the kitchen counter and into Penelope’s waiting arms like nothing had happened.

“How did you get that?” Penelope asked in shock as she looked down at the now happy Max. “How did you get into the bathroom?”

You laughed. “Cats are acrobats, babe. Apparently, he can jump at the doorknob and open it, so my suggestion would be to pick up the garbage can and put it in the base of the shower behind the door when you leave. He must’ve gotten in there and eaten a piece of floss. The vomiting was him trying to get it out.”

Penelope snuggled Max up into her chin. “I’m just so glad you’re okay,” she said to him. She was so relieved she was practically crying. “Thank you, Y/N. And thank you, Spencer, for answering the phone. I don’t know what I’d do without him.” A tear fell out of her eye and onto Max’s fur, at which point he turned around and licked her face. “Is there anything else I should look out for?”

You walked over to her, patting her on the back as you pet Max on the head again. “I’d just see if he throws up again tonight. If not, the floss was it. And I know he normally likes to sleep out here, but I think he might want to snuggle tonight.”

“We’re definitely gonna cuddle,” she said, yawning as Max burrowed himself into her. “Thank you again, Y/N. I don’t think I’ll ever be able to repay you.”


End file.
